The Cohorts
by older and ashamed
Summary: Bess has lived over half her life at St. Sophia's school. How will her life change when the devious little vixen meets the new student, Lyra Belaqua. read this to find out. THE BOOKS ARE T. ON HOLD


**Chapter One**

**Discovery**

"And just WHAT do you think you are doing?"

Bess froze. She turned slowly from the bench where she had been kneeling, squinting up to look at the foreboding figure, Khoran perched uneasily on her shoulder.

"Mistress Fadmira, good evening. I was just--"

"You were _just_ nothing!" snapped the caretaker. "You're never _just_ anything!"

Tabitha Fadmira was a tall woman of about thirty-five with lengthy red hair which was never seen outside a bun. She had a jutting chin, pale skin, and freckles. Her feet were _always_ in sensible working shoes, and her dresses all seemed to be the same dull grey colour (though Bess wouldn't have been surprised if she had just worn the same one for the last eight years!). Part of her fierceness may have been due to the fact that her emerald green eyes seemed to be continually looking at the tip of her very small nose. Not that she ever had any trouble poking the petite organ into other people's business, as Bess was continually remarking to her friends! Elizabess and Miss Fadmira most definitely did _NOT_ get on! Bess was the plague of Tabitha's life, and hardly a week went by when the exasperated caretaker did not catch her at some new enterprise. If it was not picking people's pockets it was _planting_ things in people's pockets, and Tabitha had had far more than her fair share of frogs, spiders, sticky-sap, and itching powder stealthily deposited in her apron pockets!

As for the small girl, she viewed the stern spinster as a spoilsport. Whenever Bess was having fun the killjoy always seemed to be on hand to spoil it, and tonight was no exception. Bess had been trying to make a special instrument, to hear what other people were saying even when she was nowhere near them. To succeed would cut the amount of detentions she received each month in half. To work on it she had sneaked out of bed, as usual, and "borrowed" a list of ingredients from the headmistress's private stores. She was for it now. The shrewd 14 year old bit her lip. Even _she_ couldn't think of an escape from the harsh punishment which would undoubtedly be given.

"What are you doing with all this?" Mistress Fadmira demanded, her otter dæmon shrieking furiously. "Where did you get it?"

"I wanted to make a present for Mallila." The cunning vixen lied, smoothly skipping over the second question "It's her birthday on Sunday." Khoran squawked and nodded, confirming her story, but the look on Miss Fadmira's face clearly stated that she didn't believe a word of it.

"Come along. We're going to see the Headmistress. _She_ can decide what to do with you."

Tabitha marched briskly down the dark corridors that Bess had come to know so well with the troublemaker and her crow dæmon following behind.

Elizabess was a petite, fine boned girl with skin like parchment, and thick ember red lips. Her face was small and round, giving an innocent impression to those who didn't know her. Her nose was small and pointed. Her fingers were long, slender and nimble. She moved with the athletic grace of an acrobat, a dancer, a predator. Her long, thick, black hair tumbled down in ringlets to the back of her knees. A single golden lock at the front was the legacy of the time she had invented everlasting dye in an attempt to look like others, but had been caught before she could dye any more than one strand. She was actually rather pleased at how the dye had turned out. She had experimented for months before she came up with a way to make the colour seep into her scalp, eliminating the possibility of the black coming up through the roots. The lock was there to stay.

But the thing that _really _made people stare, were her intelligent almond shaped eyes. One was the ordinary shade of black which one might expect to see on a young woman who spent most of her waking hours in the dark of night, but the other was a curious shade of yellow. Although Bess _had_ discovered some rather strange and useful things about her yellow eye, she could have absolutely no idea of the full significance which her eye colour would have on the rest of her life.

_That_ was all in the future however, and as Elizabess hastily stuffed her invention into the back pocket of the breeches she had "borrowed", her peculiar eye was the last thing on her mind. She trudged along behind the caretaker until they came to a heavy oak door with the word "HEADMISTRESS" inscribed in large letters at the top. Mistress Fadmira rapped smartly on it with her knuckles, and a loud bump, accompanied by some muffled curses issued from inside. The door creaked open, and there, in the full glamour of her pink, teddy bear-patterned nightgown, her chestnut hair spectacularly mussed, bloodshot brown eyes glaring at the two of them, stood Aundréa Carmon Bertrand, the Esteemed Headmistress of St. Sophia's School.

"Do either of you know what time it is!

A/N I have just fixed a few minor errors on this chapter. chapter 2 comming sooon! if you review, i'll put a dedication to you at the end of chapter 2!


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